


Bribing Benny

by ButterflyGhost



Category: due South
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Gen, POV Benton Fraser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:05:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6219400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser needs a haircut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bribing Benny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dS_Tiff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dS_Tiff/gifts).



> I added this as an early St Patrick's Day gift to make up for the angst of Slow Train! All dueSers everywhere have converstations about Fraser's hair, and there really does need to be an explanation as to why his hair style improves so dramatically between the Pilot and the series proper. 
> 
> Gifted to Tiff, for having been the first person to introduce me to the perfect combination of Fraser and cake. The icecream was just added for funsies.

 

“This is unnecessary, Ray – you really don’t have to....”  
  
“I really do.” Ray’s voice was stern. Not a tone that Fraser had heard from Ray yet though he recognised it. It was his grandmother’s _‘I’ll hear no arguments from you, young man’_ voice. It sounded so incongruous coming out of Ray’s mouth that Fraser had no choice but to listen.  
  
He didn’t have to _like_ it though.  
  
“But Ray...” Fraser winced. In another throwback to his childhood, he was sounding petulant. Oh dear. He cleared his throat and tried again, hoping not to whine this time. _Pull yourself together, Benton. I’m a Mountie, for God’s sake._ “Ray,” he declared, “I know you mean well, but I honestly don’t think that anyone would notice....”  
  
“Benny, I’m someone, and I notice.”  
  
“Yes, but –” Fraser’s hand darted to the back of his head, ruffled his hair. Surely it wasn’t _that_ bad. It didn’t feel that bad. “I don’t see that....”  
  
“That’s just it, Benny. It’s the back of your head. _Y_ ou don’t see it.” Ray glared at him. “You probably cut it yourself by touch or something.”  
  
Fraser’s eyes slid away from Ray’s sharp gaze.  
  
“Awh, Jeeze, Benny.” Ray sounded disappointed now, as though Fraser’s choice of coiffeur was a matter of moral deviancy. “Seriously?”  
  
“Well,” Fraser defended himself. “Paying someone to do it for you seems an unnecessary expense....”  
  
“Please tell me you don’t use a pudding bowl.”  
  
“Why would I use a...?”  
  
“Never mind, Benny. You’re going to the barbers.”  
  
“Do I _have_ to?” Fraser’s lower lip jutted out. Dear Lord, he wasn’t just a petulant teenager, he was devolving into a sulking three-year-old. _At this_ _rate_ _, I'll be in diapers by the end of the conversation._  
  
“Yeah, Benny. You have to.” Ray sighed. “Come on. After you’re all done, I’ll take you for ice-cream.”  
  
Fraser brightened.  
  
“Can I get cake with it? I like cake.”  
  
Ray smiled and slung an arm around him, started to steer him toward the barbers. “Ice-cream, cake, you name it.”  
  
Maybe there were benefits to being a sulking child.


End file.
